


Learning to Cook

by LZClotho (LZielinsky)



Series: Twisted Tea [3]
Category: Star Trek RPF, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Daydreaming, Drunk Singing, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasizing, Making Up, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pining, RPF, how to make love to a woman, lgbtq relationships, making a fool of oneself in public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LZielinsky/pseuds/LZClotho
Summary: Jeri processes her feelings about her encounter with Kate in Vegas with the help of Christophe Eme her boyfriend at the time. Across town, Kate processes on her own. Both have unusual dreams of finally coming together, but is it all just fantasy?
Relationships: Jeri Ryan/Christophe Eme, Kate Mulgrew/Jeri Ryan
Series: Twisted Tea [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706776
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Learning to Cook

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows **One Night in Vegas**. It was written in 2006, and liberally makes use of facts gleaned from media about her doings -- and Kate's -- at the time. Slightly _twisted_ , of course.

**Disclaimers** :  
This story is fiction. That said, some of the people herein named are real people. That means this is actor fic. If you don't like that idea, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.  
  
 **Content Disclaimers:**  
This story features same-sex explicit action between consenting adults, both m/f and f/f. If you don't like that idea, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.  
  
  
  


Learning to Cook 

by Lara Zielinsky  
(c) 2006

**Prologue**

Following the hours of signing, Jeri found herself following Kate back to the hotel bar. She was a little wary as Kate slipped into a booth. The hesitation was noticed, and the woman led her instead to the bar itself, where they sat side by side, but if Jeri wanted to leave, there were no obstacles.

Hours spent in a cacophony where they couldn't have talked had they wanted to gave way to a nervous quiet as each woman sipped her drink. Jeri found herself stealing glances to the left, to watch Kate's profile, still trying to divine the machinations that had to be going on beneath that softly lit auburn hair. Why? She asked silently.

Feeling the scrutiny, Kate's gaze came up slowly to hers, her fingertips stroking the perspiration on the outside of her tumbler of scotch. "I've been too forward," she said.

"Yes."

"You don't think I'm being genuine."

"Yes."

"Nothing I can say will change that."

Jeri felt a frisson of anxiety. If Kate tried to talk to her... Quickly she nodded, not sure if it was an invitation for the other woman to try, or to agree there was nothing to be done.

Kate tilted her head. "All right." She stood up, placing a twenty dollar bill on the bar. Jeri let her gaze follow her up, aware that she was taking in much, much more than just the expression on the solemn face. She'd so seldom seen regret on this woman's features in the four years they worked together, and it seemed to be her constant companion now.

Jeri was aware how thoroughly her gaze traced the way Kate's blouse moved over her figure, the neckline's caress of her collarbone. She was aware of the way Kate's throat moved as she swallowed. But the other woman did not say anything more.

Clearly Jeri's message had been acceded to, if not accepted. Kate was leaving. Adjusting her purse on her shoulder, Kate's hands skimmed over the bottom of her blouse and straightened it. Finally her gaze came up one last time. There was a desire there which Jeri saw plainly.

"I'll... see you... sometime." The hesitation was clear; Kate wanted Jeri to call her back. Too hurt, too confused, too afraid of what could be, Jeri said nothing. Her eyes drifted over the subtle curves visible in the way Kate's blouse covered her back. Kate walked away slowly, but did not look back.

Jeri forcibly ignored the way her mouth went dry, the way her fingers caressed the glass in her hand as though it were soft skin, and the physical tension in her legs which demanded she get up off the stool and call Kate back.

No. What happened in Vegas would stay in Vegas.

Jeri took a cab to the airport, determined to put this all behind her.

**Part 1**

Once back in L.A., Jeri's memories of events did not remain consigned to the furthest, oddest reaches of her mind. Instead night after night, she relived, if not that very last moment watching Kate walk away, then she recalled the curve of Kate's ear next to her as they signed autographs. She inhaled again the soft scent of perspiration which made Kate's skin shimmer. Or the memory would resurface of the way Kate's body felt pressed against her on the garden bench in the softly lit hotel courtyard: warm, soft, and gossamer silk hair caressing her cheeks, satin lips consuming her own.

Resolutely she filled her days with preparing her restaurant Ortolan for opening, meeting with investors, signing bank notes, and meeting with media reporters who wanted the reason why a young, popular American celebrity, would open a restaurant featuring French cuisine.

She kept Chris behind the scenes, as he preferred. She taste-tested dishes, determined the interior décor and table setting, and continued letting the reporters, believe she and Chris were an item.

Certainly they were involved, but the romance was more that of "buddies with benefits". She preferred the effect being "attached" had on limiting the leers and propositions she received when she appeared in public.

It suited them both to be seen as a couple this way, Jeri thought as she waved to Chris as he pulled up on his in-town bike, a Honda Reflex Sport. He was returning from picking it up from its custom paint job, getting the factory spec yellow replaced with a silky Roadster green with ink-black speed striping. As he pulled up she smiled broadly, slid her right leg over the second seat and pulled herself up behind him using her hands on his shoulders.

She kissed his cheek. "Nice ride," she complimented. "So where to tonight?"

"Upstate. There's a new farmer's market where I'm going to check out a few possible suppliers."

That meant overnighting in the Valley, she realized. When they stopped, she would call her mother and let her know to keep Alex when he returned home from school.

Her arrangement with Chris was a match of palates, the occasional tongue kiss notwithstanding. They would peruse the market, finish their business, share a view of the sunset over a local vineyard offering, judging its worth for adding to their wine list, and then slip together into bed at any number of inns dotting the area.

* * *

Sipping the local vintage, a light red, with a hint of apples, Jeri inhaled and exhaled the bouquet, willing the aromas to stop the mental parade.

"Jer?"

"Mm hm?" She put the glass to her lips once again.

"You seem a little distracted."

"Long week."

"It's only Tuesday night. Did the convention crowd in Las Vegas give you trouble?"

She contemplated the varying hues swirling in the glass, unable to resist mentally comparing it to the russet Kate's hair had been during Voyager filming. It wasn't even red anymore. She'd colored it blonde. Jeri sighed. "No."

"Someone else? Something about your pilot?"

Jeri lifted her head up, tilting it against the high back of the lounge. She found herself staring up at a full moon, its risen color a deep golden yellow. That's it, she thought to herself. That's the color. Again, she sighed. "Damn."

Chris leaned forward on his lounge, pulled away her glass and put it with his on the nearby small table. That out of the way, as she drew her gaze down to meet his, he moved onto the end of her lounge, lifting her bare feet over his thighs, and beginning to massage the right one.

She moaned in appreciation as he found a pressure point that immediately unlocked a knot in the base of her neck. He smiled at her. She smiled back. "Everything good?" he asked.

"The day's been fine, Chris," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I'm just not all 'here' right now."

"Something happen?"

"Nothing that ..." Jeri trailed off. She had been about to say Nothing that concerns you, but that was not the truth. She was thinking of someone else. Rightly or wrongly. And that did concern him. Although he could be more of a sounding board than the jealousy either Jack or Brannon would have displayed. She'd been careful to make sure Chris understood their relationship was transient, more casual than serious. He had agreed to the openness, because his preferences ran both ways. Since then she had learned he about his regular time with Armand, a dishwasher. "Well, it is something I need to talk about," she started over.

"It's not work?"

"Not related to the restaurant, but it is related to my work."

"Mmm hmm. All right." Chris sat back, letting her take the lead in the conversation. Jeri leaned forward slightly.

"Do you remember me telling you about Voyager?" Chris nodded.

She figured he wouldn't have forgotten, but she used the moment to collect her thoughts. Now that she wanted to say something, nothing verbal was coming to mind. She was suffused in several sensations, and the hazy gauze of a daydream started to slip across her mind's eye.

"I've been reliving some of my days back then."

"You told me it was a pretty tough time."

"Incredible workload. The physicality toward the end was exhausting."

"I thought they ended with a romance for Seven?"

Jeri shook her head. "God, what a disaster that was. I got such a mixed bag of fan mail after that."

"But what was so physical about it?"

"Well, actually... physical may be the wrong word. Intense, like the shooting schedule had been compressed, but it wasn't. There was a serious increase in the antagonisms between us, I guess."

"Tired of living in each other's back pockets?"

"I was so over it when it was over, I remember I slept for a week."

"But now you are remembering different things. At the convention did you run into your old 'mates?"

"Everyone, nearly." She shook herself.

"So did you have words with someone?"

Jeri sighed. "Something like that."

"Nasty?"

Jeri shook her head. "No. That's what bugs me, I guess. Not a nasty word. Like a personality transplant. You remember The Body Snatchers?"

Chris chuckled. "So she gave up the antagonism for Lent, hmm?"

"Lent's in the spring," she replied automatically. Then she realized that Chris had guessed who she had run into, and groaned. "Yeah, it was Kate."

"She give you a reason? 'Cause I know you asked."

"She said..." Jeri trailed off, trying to decide exactly how to put it. "She said she was attracted to me."

Chris sat back, hand over his mouth, but it was mirth, not shock, she read in his eyes.

"It's not funny. I didn't know what to do or say. It was like when I got so suspicious of Jack's motives in the end, so I was hyper alert to everything looking for clues. I ended up signing autographs for four hours sitting next to her wondering how to gauge if she was serious or pulling my leg."

Chris nodded sanguinely. "So what did you decide?"

"I couldn't."

"But you still want to know. So exactly what did she say when you asked her directly?"

"People have always lied to get to me, Chris. What does it matter what she said?"

He nodded. "Okay. What did she do?"

"She... ah, kissed me." Chris's hidden mirth was back, his hand perched over his mouth. "Are you going to laugh at everything?"

"No, ah..." He forced his mirth into a smile. "No, all right. So... um, what did you do?" He adjusted his position on his chair, sitting back with deliberate casualness. His relaxation helped hers. It began to feel like one of their discussions over whether to choose this Bordeaux, or that one, to accent their menu at Ortolan.

"I didn't object."

Chris's smile briefly broadened. "So, you liked it."

She reached for her wine glass. The thin stem in her hand helped ground her as she felt the sensations slip past her guard even in memory. "Mmm hmm."

"So, you told her..." he trailed off expectantly.

"I told her I didn't trust her words."

"And this was before or after signing together for hours?"

"Both."

He lifted an eyebrow. She nodded.

"I think you'd better start at the beginning." So she did.

**Part 2**

"So I let her go." Jeri withdrew from her mental fall back in time. She and Chris had moved inside from the night breeze. She was still holding her half full wine glass. Swirling the liquid in the glass, she found its reddened eddies a focal point for her thoughts. Even now she could not resist thinking she really, really missed Kate's auburn locks.

As they had settled together on the settee beside the bed, Chris's voice rumbled against the top of her head. "Sounds like you wanted to call her back." His voice was quiet, easy, ruminative.

She leaned forward and turned her head around to look at him. "I can't want that. I am aware of my masochistic tendencies. Every time, even when I've thought it over, and over, sure I'd get it right this time. When my heart gets involved..."

She shook her head and pushed herself off the settee and crossed the room. Without the moonlight from the windows, she was in the dark. It felt... safer. She took a large, fortifying sip of her wine.

"No. I was right to let her walk away. First Jack, then Brannon. People who exude power thrill me... For a time. Then they'll use it against me. Cajoling at first then demanding."

Chris sat up and pushed himself off the settee. "Is that why you stick with me? Because I am a friend only."

"I like you a lot, Chris."

"We are partners in business. Playmates, also, but we are not lovers. Because I have been 'up front' with you, told you I am 'flirty', given to loving easily and frequently, your heart is not involved."

Jeri frowned. "That makes me sound terrible."

"No, wounded. Ma bonne amie, you are a soft heart, given just as easily and quickly to loving as I am. Just because you have been wounded by men, does not mean all men are the same. Just because you have been wounded by this woman, does not mean that you do not want things to be different."

Jeri didn't know. Part of her attraction was Kate was so strong... She shook her head firmly. "She doesn't want love, she wants absolution, forgiveness from me."

"Yes, and she is willing to meet you on your terms."

Jeri lifted her glass to her lips for a quiet moment of thinking only to find it now empty. She looked to the bottle on a table nearby. It was empty as well.

"From what you've said," he went on, "she's been on a hard road this last year too."

"But if she wants me to set the pace, why would she come at me so hard? So fast?"

"It's the same way she handled your arrival on set, yes? She gives in fully to her emotions. Nothing steams slowly, it just boils within her."

Unable to sip wine to think, Jeri paced over to the railing, bracing her hands on its solid iron scroll work. She stared out at the starry night and admitted, "I never thought about it like that." Was Kate as confused as she was, just going on instinct?

"I do not wish to sound like I am presenting her case. She can do that, but you probably owe her another conversation."

Jeri looked at him forlornly, requesting guidance in her expression. "When I'm close to her, Chris, I lose track of what I should say."

Chris's smile, the one barely containing a laugh, was back. "Sounds like you owe it to yourself too." Coming to his feet, he walked up beside her and put his left hand on the balcony railing over hers. His right hand settled on her shoulder. She met his gaze. "Jer, you're in love with her."

"But I don't know how to be."

"At least you didn't say you didn't want to be. That's progress in admitting it to yourself. So, my advice, and your solution: you should learn how to love her."

"You're joking."

"No."

Jeri looked away out over the rolling foothills dotted with lights. There were always a lot of possibilities she imagined behind the glows of distant lights. It was one of the reasons she had come to California and left Paducah behind.

She had been scared then too. Unsure she was making the right choices, but aware that out here somewhere lay her destiny. Was this that destiny? She felt anxiety in her belly and closed her eyes, instantly remembered Kate's pressing kisses. The anxiety went up in smoke. She moaned with Kate in her dream and it was abruptly disconnecting to feel iron under her hands instead of a warm full breast.

She leaned back into Chris's shoulder. "So, does Armand turn you on like this?"

"Oh, Jer," Chris kissed her ear. "To please someone you truly love is the most delicious thing in the world." He pulled her to the bed. She resisted until he said, "Ah, no. You will keep your best for her, and her only. Come, I will show you the heart of your love."

# # #

Mutual masturbation had never been so thrilling. Chris encouraged her to talk as she stroked herself, to imagine Kate under her touch.

She told him about watching Kate commandeer any space she entered, the way she moved as she would cross a room. The way each movement always made her own stomach swirl. The color of Kate's eyes swirling when she was angry. The way Jeri's own fingers itched to caress a cheek or a shoulder when she would be unaware Jeri was observing her and be distraught or hurt by something or someone else on the set. But she never had, because she was sure the gesture would be ignored, if not outright slapped away.

She confessed to verbally poking Kate sometimes in jest with the other actors and sometimes just to get her to meet her gaze. While she was relating a time she actually got the woman to fall apart laughing she relived the butterflies in her stomach and the surge of adrenaline through her veins when Kate turned to her with an expression of unquestionable joy. Chris laughed, and groaned as his hand stilled on his member.

"Did you say anything?" he asked.

Jeri's hand stilled as well and she groaned and arched upright. "Oh, God, no. I was completely tongue-tied."

Commiserating, Chris told her about his first love, like hers a distant possibility, the uncertainty of his own feelings, and the receptions he imagined should he become bold. There were stumbles; many imaginings ended with the object of his lust walking away. But what kept up his hope was the dreams where Timothy did not walk away.

Listening to his suggestions for what she should do when she next had an opportunity to have Kate in her arms, Jeri's heart raced. She filled in the blank spaces he left, and felt the powerful surges through her groin as she took control of the dream.

Jeri's ministrations on herself... Kate's skin under her fingertips...the reality and the dreams blended together and she felt her center swell and flow, pulsating fluidly around her fingers, and she arched and cried out, "Kate!"

Opening her eyes, Jeri breathed in deeply. She was a little winded and very satisfied. A post-orgasmic euphoria made it seem not such a difficult road ahead. Chris's arms wrapped around her in the big king-size bed, and her dreams of taking Kate restarted almost the instant she closed her eyes again...

_Walking through the swirling mists of her mind, Jeri smelled the brine of water and heard the lapping of rolling waves playing their cat and mouse game with the shoreline. Sand grains rasped underfoot and between her toes. It was early, before dawn, the light sky between the mists a soft gray-blue over the water. Her eyes, she thought wistfully._

_Pausing in her walk, she started to sit, just to gaze out at the ocean and envelop herself in the peaceful time before the hectic start of another day._

_She heard other steps approaching, and turned slowly. The veil of fog continued to shift, parting like curtains to reveal the woman coming closer._

_At the same time she realized it was a woman, she recognized Kate in a soft blue beach wrap from russet hair to the luminous blue of her eyes to the determination in the direct gaze, and the million other different things Jeri recognized from long association, seeing the woman at her best and worst._

_Jeri blinked at the flowers presented to her. The bouquet was jasmine, mint and sprigs of baby's breath. The scents were heady, aromatic in a purely visceral way, reminding her of summer days in Paducah. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply with her face caressing the blossoms._

_When she opened her eyes, she found Kate had remained still, simply watching her take pleasure in the flowers. Jeri nodded. "They're beautiful," she said._

_Kate nodded. "Not as beautiful as you," she whispered, and took a step forward._

_Instead of taking a step back, Jeri answered the urgency in her body's tremors of arousal and brought their bodies into full contact, capturing Kate's surprised, open mouth with her own lips. She lifted her left hand against Kate's back more firmly, sliding it up to keep their lips connected._

_Jeri parted Kate's lips with her tongue, taking in the groan with rising pleasure as Kate's strong body melted against Jeri's, the heat making Jeri weaker in her own knees as she lifted a thigh between Kate's and her skin was bathed in wet heat. She lowered Kate to the soft fleece of a blanket and parted Kate's wrap revealing her naked beneath._

_Leaning back, she drank in the vision painted by the growing sunlight, chasing sunbeams with her fingers and hands over delicate tendons in relief against freckled skin as Kate arched to her touch. Stroking Kate's breasts, Jeri felt the nipples tighten and pebble against her palms. She flicked the stiffened peaks and captured Kate's gasps and sighs into her own mouth._

_Her hands continued to map flesh. Kate moaned and gasped and cried out with ardent pleasure, her throaty voice washing over Jeri's ears with the smoothness of cream. To the delight of her eyes, Kate's body flushed with passion's heat. As Jeri touched Kate's warm folds, her fingertips were drenched in the wetness._

_"Love me," Kate whispered against Jeri's ear as Jeri nuzzled hers. Warm, swelling flesh pulsated around her fingertips as she pressed inward._

_"I do." Jeri's reply accompanied her body's press against Kate's. Trailing her lips away from the delicate curves of an ear, she nipped at Kate's chin as the woman's body convulsed in rapture._

_Kate arched and cried out Jeri's name. Extending the pleasure for them both, Jeri rotated her fingers, surging and withdrawing and brushed the nodule at the apex of Kate's sex, sending another surge through Kate's body, over and over again until the woman lay quiescent and shuddering in her arms._

_Wrapping up Kate with her body she absorbed the movements of Kate's body against hers as the compact woman returned from the heights to which Jeri had taken her. Jeri reiterated, "I love you. I always have."_

**Part 3**

_Walking through the swirling mists, Kate could smell the brine of ocean water and hear rolling waves slapping at the shore. Sand grains rasped underfoot and between her toes. It was early, before dawn, the light sky between the mists a soft gray-blue over the water. She was back in California, she thought._

_The veil of fog parted to reveal a woman seated on the sand, hands tucked around her knees, blonde hair windblown back by the ocean breeze._

_Jeri. Kate sighed and stopped, not sure how to proceed. Every time she'd done this before, she had been rebuffed. She wanted to break the impasse between them, assure the other woman of her sincerity, but all she had tried had not worked. Words were rebuffed as lies; her attempts at seduction too forceful._

_She flexed her hands and found the rough stems of a bouquet in her right hand. Swallowing, she decided to try again. Gently. Stepping forward and holding them out, she drank in the lithe muscled figure rising to her feet too afraid to break the spell by speaking probably all the wrong words._

_Kate was careful to let the bouquet go while her hands were still not touching Jeri's sliding up the stems. Long lashes obscured her expression from Kate as Jeri looked down at the flowers. Slowly Jeri lowered her face until the blossoms caressed her cheeks._

_Kate remained still watching Jeri take pleasure in the flowers, hoping she had made the right move at last. The silence was painful, and long._

_At last Jeri lifted her gaze and nodded. "They're beautiful," she said._

_"Not as beautiful as you," she whispered, trembling as she took a short step forward, eyes never leaving Jeri's face._

_Instead of taking a step back, Jeri's arm slipped around Kate's back and pulled their bodies into full contact, capturing Kate's surprised, open mouth with her own lips._

_Kate would not have let go had the world gone up in flames around them. Her heart thrummed in her ears. The silk softness of Jeri's lips plundered her mouth, and her tongue parted Kate's lips as she gasped._

_Kate groaned as her muscles weakened and her body melted. Jeri held her up and lifted a thigh between her legs. Kate could feel herself dripping with wet heat._

_Lowered to the soft fleece of a blanket Kate felt Jeri part her wrap and reveal her nakedness._

_Eyes locked with hers, Jeri's fingers and hands traced over tendons in relief against freckled skin. Kate arched into her touch, silently begging for more, her nipples pebbling against Jeri's palms. Fingernails shocked another groan from Kate's lips as Jeri flicked the stiffened peaks and captured her reaction with her own lips._

_Jeri's hands continued to map flesh. Kate moaned and gasped and cried out throatily with spiraling pleasure. When Jeri slipped over her flesh and into Kate's warm folds, her center fluidly convulsed._

_"Love me," she whispered against Jeri's ear as Jeri nuzzled hers. Jeri's fingertips pressed inward and Kate welcomed the possession._

_"I do." Jeri's reply accompanied her body's press against Kate's. Jeri's nips at Kate's throat shot her to the pinnacle and over. She convulsed in rapture, arching and crying out._

_Extending the pleasure, Jeri rotated her fingers, surging and withdrawing. A gentle brush of the nodule at the apex of her sex and Kate orgasmed again. Jeri did not cease. Over and over again she propelled Kate to the summit and over into freefall, until she lay quiescent and shuddering in Jeri's arms, her mind blank, but her body thrumming with the racing tempo of her heart. She laid a gentle hand over Jeri's breast, feeling her heart's tempo matching her own._

_Kate returned from the heights to which Jeri had taken her, feeling the softly muscled form, and the sweet scent of jasmine. Jeri whispered softly, "I love you. I always have."_

* * *

Kate moved in her sleep, shifting in her lover's embrace. When the motion caught not firm flesh but only empty air, her eyes flew open. She gasped into the darkness as she tumbled off the side of the bed.

Tangled in the sheets, tears running down her cheeks, caught both in the emotional upheaval from her dream, and the shock of waking to find it was just that, a dream, Kate leaned against the box spring of the hotel bed and hid her head in her blankets to cover her crying from Alec sleeping in the next room.

Despite walking away, as asked, from Jeri that last night in Las Vegas over one month ago, Kate still ached, and still dreamed, for things to have turned out differently.

She had gone over every minute of contact and ashamedly recognized that despite her promise, she had been pushing the situation, constantly hammering Jeri. Albeit honest, she had not acted honorably. Overt, ostentatious presentations of her feelings were unwelcome, disbelieved.

Since leaving Jeri, she had continued to try to work out what to do. Her dreams ended constantly in failure, either Jeri walking away, or forcefully pushing Kate away.

Success seemed to have finally come in the simple act of quietly meeting Jeri "on her own turf" and being submissive rather than dominating, reactive rather than active. That seemed her only avenue remaining to reach the other woman.

Walking away and waiting for Jeri's response, if it would come at all, was killing her... and bruising a lot of her, she added ruefully, now rubbing lightly at the knot forming on her right hip where she had struck the floor.

In classic avoidance, she was dashing from appearance to appearance, convention to luncheon, to charity event, to small roles, keeping her feet on the same ground no more than two days in a row.

As planned, Tim seldom accompanied her now. She would stay at her New York apartment between flights out of the country, and across country. Tim still didn't like her to travel alone, so she coaxed family, a brother or sister, or a friend. Her youngest son Alec was accompanying her this time to Arizona for a featured run of "Tea at Five."

She and her companions, whoever they were, registered in separate rooms. That way she was able to keep secret her night dreams, no one else to witness the anxieties overtaking her in the darkness.

Tim would have taken the same room with her, and then her deception would end.

She knew she would eventually tell him it was over. In more than a year, she had slept in the same bed with him less than a handful of times, and only once had singularly uninspiring sex.

That had happened just before Boston. She had not been intimate with him since.

Her public face remained intact. She still brought him onstage during appearances when he accompanied her, but her acting skills carried her through. She made sure they were surrounded by people, playing to the audience. Tim was only occasionally wise to the tactic.

They fought about that. She found herself getting quiet after a few exchanges and withdrawing. It was untenable for much longer she knew.

However, she dreaded pulling the plug officially. Her family's expectations. Her mother's health... When she was in Cleveland, she stayed close to her mother; the excuses came easily because of that. She sighed. When Mom wasn't there anymore...

Ashamed where her thoughts had turned, Kate crossed herself and begged for forgiveness. She was so wrecked with her internal conflicts.

She pushed to her feet, picked up her dressing robe off the back of the hotel room chair and slipped out onto the balcony to look over the ruggedness that was Sedona just as the eastern horizon rippled with the glowing hues of the rising sun. She tried to absorb the solidness of the landscape, the rock, though hewn by vicious winds, that could still stand. Instead she could only dwell on the arid aspects, parched, dry land, lacking enough of the proper sustenance to flourish...

Around ten o'clock, her stage manager called. She assured him she would be on time to the theater to get ready for the performance.

Her agent called next with the information she had nailed down for the Alzheimer's benefit in three days.

Alec appeared at her door shortly after eleven and she joined him in the hotel restaurant for a late breakfast. He then informed her he was taking off to see the city.

Kate tried not to think about that too much. She was losing her youngest son to the "real world" at last, reinforcing her ache of loneliness.

At the theater, she walked through the staging with the director, rechecked the light cues, and took a late lunch with the theater's owner and Matthew _[Lombardo, writer of "Tea at Five"]_ who had flown in to be available for questions at the close of the opening night curtain.

Near the end of their lunch break, Kate sipped at a glass of the local favorite iced tea variety, enjoying the hint of lime, when Matthew asked her, "Tired of it yet?"

Abruptly she sat up. "No. Of course not." _Had she given that impression?_ She had been relaxed, yes, and her gaze focused on an older pair of women that were on the veranda of the restaurant, sipping something clearly alcoholic, smoking and laughing. Matt had spoken just as she'd watched one kiss the other.

He smiled at her. "I think we've lined up a string of West Coast venues finally. Seattle, San Francisco, then L.A. Four months solid. You'll start the run in May."

She nodded cautiously. Simply hearing "L.A." had sped up her heartbeat.

"Your unexpected Vegas appearance helped," he added. "More than a few quoted the numbers from the convention. I assured them those numbers follow you wherever you go."

Behind Kate's briefly closed lids as she continued to absorb the news, she saw herself stepping once again onto the beach, flowers in hand. Jeri's eyes rising to meet hers...

What if they simply happened to run across each other? Kate lifted her napkin to her lips as she felt her blood heat and her upper lip begin to tremble.

Matthew's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Gotta go east first. Another run at Connecticut and Boston, then Baltimore."

"Mmm hmm," she said behind her hand, aware that 'Boston' had ticked up her heart rate once again as well.

She was quite certain Tim would demand to accompany her there to "guard" her. After all, it was where she first fell from grace. At least from his point of view. For Kate, Boston had been the birthplace of her soul's very own revolution.

She wondered if Ronnie would stop in to see the play again.

**Part 4**

"Lynn?" Jeri turned as a gray-haired older woman stepped out onto the front portico where she stood watching Alex skateboarding with several neighborhood kids. She was pretty sure her vantage, partially behind a tree, hid her concerned oversight from her independence-minded son's knowledge.

"Good morning, Mom." She leaned close and bussed her mother's cheek as Sharon Zimmerman lifted her chin to catch it.

"Did you sleep all right?"

"Fine. I just had to come find Alex."

"He's getting so big." Her mother's voice was filled with the pride of a grandmother and a little awe.

"You see him constantly."

"Sometimes it's just striking."

Turning back to see him making a jump from a ramp, Jeri nodded her head. "I know what you mean." Fleetingly she wondered if Kate could welcome a teenager into her life again. Weren't her sons grown and out of the house?

She blinked. _Damn it._ She was still constantly configuring herself with Kate in a future of some form. It had to stop.

Sharon's attention caught another jumping stunt. "Should he be doing that?"

Jeri smiled. "He's fine. His grumpy ol' mother makes him wear his helmet."

"Chris didn't come with you."

"He had his own family plans," Jeri answered easily and truthfully. Besides, they had both agreed he should not accompany her. Since there was no likelihood of their growing beyond business partners any longer, Chris told her that she shouldn't "string her mother along with that fantasy."

She knew it was best to stop presenting themselves as a couple. Chris accepted that for a while longer she wanted the public perception unchanged. But her mother deserved not to believe that Jeri was settling down with him if she wasn't.

"Where's his family from?" Sharon asked.

"A bit of everywhere, but now mostly in northern California."

"You haven't talked about them much."

"I've only met them a couple times," Jeri said truthfully.

"So...?"

Jeri answered her mother's lifted questioning eyebrow. "We're just good friends, Mom. And business partners."

"Oh yes, how is that going?"

Jeri sighed. "Not much better than anything else I'm afraid. Our licensing has been delayed. We had hoped to get the holiday crowds in the doors. That district is flush during this time of year with all the theatergoers and shoppers. But it looks like it will be February before we can open."

"Problems?"

"There are so many inspectors for every little thing. It's good but it's tedious and if there are corrections to be made, you then have to have a reinspection."

Sharon smiled politely but Jeri knew her talk went over her mother's head. Truthfully it went over hers a bit as well, but she had a knack for keeping tabs on who and what needed to be where and when. She was diligent with details and cared a lot about the whole thing. So it tended to work out.

"How is the... your projects? You said it was 'pilot' season? Do you have a new show contract yet?"

Jeri shook her head. "No news yet. Options on two are still open, but Elaine says that there haven't been any major shifts in what the networks want in programs. The suits are still more interested in the crime dramas, and the reality stuff."

"Don't you do that?"

Chuckling, Jeri admitted, "Mom, I'll do almost anything if they'll pay me."

"You're not desperate, are you?" Sharon asked with alarm.

Jeri shook her head. "No. What I meant was... You know how Mark gets antsy when he's not sculpting, painting whatever? I need my art, my acting, the same way."

The restaurant took some of that energy and converted it into the industriousness she applied to following every detail, but with the opening on hold now, she was a bit at sea.

Without the constant distraction, her mind didn't always stay off the tracks where she didn't want it wandering. She sighed, thinking again of Kate and how thoroughly the other woman had commanded the latest interview she had seen.

Jeri found herself tracking Kate's appearances and interviews. She wanted to decipher the woman before she saw her again. She had not had a lot of opportunity to learn the difference between when Kate was acting like herself, and actually being herself. Now she wanted to be well armed with knowledge if they ran into each other once again.

According to the latest releases, Kate was bringing "Tea at Five" to the west coast beginning in May. She wondered where Kate was spending her Thanksgiving. She had been in Hartford through last week, and the play was playing Boston in December. _Had she gone to Cleveland with Tim, was she in New York, or had she gone ahead to Boston early?_ _Boston_. Jeri exhaled. She wondered what would happen to Kate this second time through the city. Certainly the first time through had decisively changed her life. And by extension Jeri's.

She wondered again about what woman could turn Kate's head, and upend her heterosexual self-perception completely onto its ear, when Jeri's daily presence for four years had raised nothing but fear and anger.

"Lynn?"

Jeri returned from her reverie to find her mother looking askance at her. "Um, sorry. Just thinking."

"Are you ready to help me get the bird in the oven?"

Jeri smiled. "All right. Lead on."

# # #

"Sis, are you happy?"

Jeri looked over at Mark as the two of them, having shooed their mother out of the kitchen, stood together finishing the last of the side dishes for the family's meal. Mark stood at the sink rinsing carrots he was putting in a casserole dish with a glaze.

She hadn't thought it particularly unusual that she would be quiet, concentrating on chopping the celery for the salad. However, she guessed he had noticed her faraway expression as she had just suddenly seen herself doing this while standing, not next to her brother but, next to Kate in an unfamiliar kitchen. The whole daydream experience had been filled with warmth and comfort.

Caught though, she laughed a little and tossed her hair away from her cheeks. Wiping her hands on a towel, she turned around and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back with her rear against the counter top. Mark met her stance, backing up from the sink. "I'm good. How are you?"

"Not too bad. I've been working on some new sketches, and getting another showing together."

"Met any new models?"

"A few, but I've turned a bit more toward the rugged stills. Mountains in Colorado are really stunning."

"Yeah?"

Mark nodded shyly. "Yeah."

"Going to be here for Christmas then?"

"Maybe. But I was also thinking of taking in the land of the midnight sun for some 'scapes."

"Alaska? Really?"

"Or the frontier in Canada. It'll really fit the theme, I think. Besides, I'm in the mood for some new views on life."

Jeri nodded. "I feel the same way lately. Ready to get out and try some new things."

"Not giving up your acting are you?"

"No, just considering that there are other outlets for it. Maybe try out some places that aren't Hollywood and Vine vintage."

"Theater?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"There's a lot of great modern work that's come out lately. Edgy. Challenging. You might find you like it."

"Been watching the theater lines?"

He shrugged. "I tend to run in the same circles with their patrons."

"Do you ever think about settling down?" She blinked as she was unsure why she had asked that question. She and Mark were close, but she never recalled ever asking him why he remained single.

Mark's hesitation was not lost on her. "Yeah," he said finally. "I do. I... haven't found the right person yet." He lifted his gaze. "You think about it? About remarrying?"

"No," she said honestly. "I should but... it, whatever 'it' is, it's just not there."

Mark nodded knowingly. "I know."

"So, anyone special?"

"You?"

She noticed he didn't answer. So she didn't either. "Do you miss the snows we'd have in Paducah at Christmas? Is that why you want to go hip deep in Canada or wherever?"

He dipped his head in acknowledgment that she had caught him. "I do. Do you think you'll leave L.A.? And if so, do you think Mom and Dad will?"

Jeri frowned. "I don't want to give up the restaurant, so leaving L.A. isn't in the cards."

"So do theater around the fringes. You've got to have a few connections to find out what troupes are really serious, and not just hanging out a shingle for kicks." He paused as they both turned back to their tasks. "I'd go see you. If you go."

Jeri returned to chopping the celery, finishing it quickly. _Would Kate come to see her if Jeri was still in L.A. when Tea came through?_ Sighing, she realized she was "doing it again", daydreaming ways for her and Kate to be together.

But the idea did take hold. She would at least look at the theaters within a few blocks of Ortolan. Maybe something would strike her as fun.

After all, August was a long way off. She was not going to "sit around" and wait to see what Kate would do.

Jeri admitted though, now, that she would be hurt if Kate came into town and didn't seek her out. The whole thing was filled with complications Jeri didn't yet feel ready to handle, but she was beyond anxious to handle them as her night dreams had become daydreams, and she was anxious to find out if reality would come anywhere close.

As she pushed the last of the vegetables into the salad bowl, Mark's arm slipped around her shoulder. She tucked the bowl in the refrigerator.

He said, "Let's go join the 'rents for a pre-dinner toast."

Jeri ducked her head against her darker-haired brother's shoulder and let him lead her out to the living room.

**Part 5**

"That teacher's outside with her class when you're ready."

Kate acknowledged Zee, a clerk with the theater's front office, with a nod of her head, though her stomach had flipped over at the announcement. The door clicked shut behind Zee as she left Kate to stare at herself in the mirror. It was Saturday afternoon, the end of her second week in Boston at the Shubert theater. She had spoken to two other student groups already.

Both had been thespian groups supervised by very effeminate gay men. Kate had been rather amused that it would be so stereotypical, but had dealt easily with them all.

This one made her palms sweat. Winslow High, and Zee had mentioned a woman leading the group. She wondered, _could it be Ronnie?_

Thank God Tim had to return to Cleveland. She was due back herself at the end of the week for the family Christmas celebrations. He had gone back early because the county commission called a meeting to review a holiday display petition and counterpetition.

She had allayed his suspicions by remaining in the hotel room most evenings after the shows, sipping herbal tea and delving into magazines and a few project papers from her agent.

He had never asked what she was reading. Between the lines, she had been keeping tabs on Jeri, watching the entertainment columns about mid-season replacements, and the pilot season currently being cast. "Commuters" had looked too sketchy to Kate, not worthy of Jeri's diverse talent. She had been disappointed to see the "Practical Magic" spin off tossed with the flotsam though. The creative team had come mostly from the movie, which Kate had made a point to rent and had enjoyed.

Jeri's role of the younger sister had been described in the guide as layered and complex. Maybe, she thought, the suits considered it a clone of 'Charmed'. Besides, the studios were still enamored with reality shows and crime dramas. Kate herself had Val submit her tapes for a couple guest roles on one of the latter.

"Kate?" Zee poked her head back in.

"Yep," she said finally. "I'm ready."

Leaving the second act wig on, she decided it might benefit her if she needed to 'retreat' into character for any reason.

# # #

Kate followed Zee toward the stage, trying to comprehend the other woman's nervous chatter. The woman's awe of her caused her mouth to run on endlessly, and needlessly most of the time. But this time she was avidly listening for any information she might glean about the group, specifically the teacher.

There's a lot of kids. It's a big group. I was surprised. I felt it would be easier to keep them in the audience chairs. For you, I mean. There's a lot of them. If they... Well, you can sit wherever you like." Kate nodded, disappointed there was nothing specific in the monologue about the teacher. She felt too awkward to outright ask, but had decided she should.

Pausing at the curtain, she turned to Zee. "Can you tell me...?"

Zee reached past her oblivious, and held open the curtain to let her slip through.

She was immediately noticed. Turning into the din of applause, Kate scanned the faces, feeling her stomach flip and her palms slick with sweat. She had never experienced stage fright, but could not deny that was exactly what she was feeling now.

Her gaze immediately fell on a sea of young people, all clapping and a few whistling. She smiled and raised her hands, listening as the sounds trickled away. "It's so nice to see so many of you here on a Saturday afternoon. Hopefully you're getting extra credit or something out of this for using your weekend."

There were a few chuckles, but mostly groans greeted her.

Searching with grand sweeps of her head, Kate lifted her eyebrow and affected the elder Hepburn's voice for the austerity and reproof it so easily conveyed. "Oh really? Maybe I should have a word or two with your teacher?"

The effect was immediate. She was going to get her first look at the teacher of the group she realized as fingers pointed and heads turned toward the back of the group. A compact well-dressed woman came to her feet at the end of a row. Kate had to pause as her heart both squeezed and then skipped a beat as she realized it was not Ronnie Cook. "Ah, there you are."

Kate was instantly caught by the firm look about the other woman; not a person to be trifled with. The jawline was taut, lips thinned. There was a smile, but it did not reach what Kate was surprised to realize were crystal blue eyes with an edge of steel gray. The woman dressed trimly in a gray skirt suit that further brought out the gray in her eyes. Her cheekbones were almost chiseled, accentuated by the way she pulled her dark hair back into a chignon. Her lips pressed together thinly. Teaching clearly had taken a toll on her. Kate sensed they were of similar age, but the other woman seemed years older. A little worn and pinched, she thought.

Despite the clearly censoring expression, Kate did not regret her humor; the students had enjoyed it. However, she immediately recognized that this was not going to be the same casual conversation she had with the previous two groups, nor with Ronnie a year ago. Not unless she could find a way to direct things down a lighter path.

"Margaret O'Halloran, Ms. Mulgrew. Nice to meet you." Kate did smile at the brusquely business tone, pleased she had pegged the other woman's manner so thoroughly. The accent was native Bostonian, the r's almost lost in the liquidity of her speech as it flowed over the words. It was almost sensual, if not for the implacable expression perched in the piercing eyes.

"Nice to meet you as well Ms. O'Halloran." She found herself emphasizing her diction, and its trained neutral accent. Margaret O'Halloran bespoke culture and education with her carriage, and Kate could feel herself being measured in return. She did not often find herself in the presence of someone who clearly was a peer, but did not view her as one. "How do you want to do this?"

"We are discussing the medium of biography in class."

"If your questions are going to be about how the writing was done, I will be happy to get Mr. Lombardo?"

"No, we're talking about interpretation. I understand that you have done a great deal of your own reading of Ms. Hepburn's own biography, and her own words, to find the center of her character for your portrayal."

Kate nodded. A teacher who did her homework. She smiled at that thought. "Yes, I have."

"The students have prepared questions along those lines."

"Well then I'll take them one at a time?"

Ms. O'Halloran nodded and stepped to the front row of the gathered students, directing them to stand and ask their questions. Kate answered, marveling all the while at the tight command Margaret had of the group. No one spoke out of turn, no one stood until she nodded to them, and each student sat back down, taking notes as Kate continued answering for the next, and the next.

Perched on the back of an audience seat, peripherally Kate noticed that the teacher mentally separated from the process twice, looking toward the back of the theater, signaling someone. She followed her gaze the second time to a backlit figure in the doorway. She tried to make out details to no avail. As she finished answering the last student's question, the teacher motioned all the students to their feet.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Mulgrew. Our bus is outside, and we must be returning to school." She turned to the group. "Anything to say?"

"Thank you, Ms. Mulgrew!" called many of them.

Kate clambered to her feet and nodded. "Thank you for such thoughtful questions." She watched the lines form, and the children file out. She started toward the steps leading back onto the stage and to the backstage area when she realized the teacher was coming toward her.

"Ms. Mulgrew, a moment."

"Yes?"

Up close with the other woman, she realized they were of similar height. The rigidity had vanished. There was a warmth and a vitality behind the eyes now, interest even. Clearly "Ms. O'Halloran" and "Margaret" were very distinct personas. When Margaret smiled, Kate smiled back.

"I wanted to emphasize my thanks," Margaret's voice rolled over Kate, soft, warm, inviting like a fleece blanket on a cold night.

Kate accepted the words with a nod. "I do like students and the time I spend with them. I was never a good one myself, mostly because I felt it was too rigid a way to learn, but I do appreciate teachers."

The blue eyes before her shifted slightly to gray. "Did you have a favorite, an acting teacher perhaps?"

"Stella Adler in New York was probably the toughest teacher I ever loved."

Margaret's smile was back; Kate found it easy to follow suit.

"I could tell you thought I was a little rigid with the students."

"I'm sorry if I..."

"No, no. I'm not offended. I just wanted to assure you that I don't draw and quarter them, or dangle them from the ceiling with pins in their fingernails. I've been at this a very long time, and know that manners are best when reinforced."

"You would have enjoyed the nuns I had in school," Kate answered.

"Nuns?" Margaret shivered in mock horror, making both herself and Kate laugh.

"Margaret." They both turned at the sound of footsteps accompanying the voice coming down the theater aisle.

Kate backed up in shock and surprise, fighting to keep her reaction from her face. _Ronnie?_

Margaret stepped toward her fellow teacher who drew to a halt about four feet away.

Kate's heart hammered in her chest as she listened to the women's exchange, noting everything she could about Ronnie in the few moments. The woman looked healthy and happy. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but she was pleased to see the woman who had changed her life.

Ronnie was clearly avoiding looking directly at Kate though. She hesitated as her gaze passed over Kate, but she spoke quickly to Margaret instead. "The bus is waiting."

"I'm coming, Ronnie. Just thanking our hostess once again."

Kate ripped her gaze from Ronnie in order to meet Margaret's turning to her. "Of course," she said quickly. "My pleasure."

Margaret looked from one woman to the other. Kate couldn't help but follow her gaze back to Ronnie; the blonde's face was very still, obviously battling with her emotions. She wondered how a mere colleague like Margaret O'Halloran read what Kate readily recognized as turmoil in Ronnie's eyes. The corners of her mouth turned up and she started to reach out with her left hand.

Margaret's voice interrupted her. "Excuse my manners. Ms. Mulgrew, you probably don't remember my colleague Ronnie Cook. She brought her class to see the play last year."

Kate's smile warmed considerably. She continued to lift her left hand. Ronnie's right raised as well, but they did not quite touch.

"I remember. It's very good to see you again."

Ronnie swallowed. "Yes, I told Margaret how 'Tea' fit perfectly into our biographies section."

"She was right," Margaret confirmed. "Lombardo got what most of us saw in her. Though I'm sure she'd have quibbled with a notion here and there."

"Then I'm pleased we were able to come around again."

"Perhaps we can obtain a tape of one of the productions to use in class in the future. Unless the play is intending to tour forever?" Margaret lifted her eyebrow.

"From your mouth to--" Kate gestured heavenward. Margaret laughed.

"Seriously you look a great deal like her."

"I tried not to focus on that," Kate said. "It didn't help my career when I was younger. And it wouldn't do credit to the psychology for this piece either."

"You're right about that." Margaret nodded.

Ronnie stared at her colleague. "We've got a busload of kids, Margaret."

Margaret turned to Ronnie slowly. "Yes, we do." Kate watched her smile up into Ronnie's face. Knowing what Ronnie's gaze would have done to her own knees, Kate watched Margaret's reaction. Margaret simply grasped Ronnie's forearm after a brief pause. Ronnie shifted her hand until she had grasped Margaret's forearm as well. The gesture conveyed a strong connection between the two women. Clearly they were friends as well as colleagues, Kate thought. She was pleased for Ronnie's sake.

"Have a good evening," Ronnie said, her gaze finally, briefly, meeting Kate's before she was whisked away.

**Part 6**

Jeri stepped out of Ortolan's back door, turning to set the lock as she shifted her purse to her other hand. It was just past lunch and she had already sent Chris off to Armand with her best wishes, telling him that she would be fine.

She was planning a stroll, a bit of perspective on her life just before it entered another year. Alex had chosen to go to his father's for the school break, so she knew she was feeling lonely.

Her dreams of Kate had mellowed. The franticness of the early dreams, both sexually and emotionally, had reduced to a simmer. She had seen her first lesbian film, choosing "Kissing Jessica Stein" and been significantly upset when the ending had been so bad for the lovers. Chris had consoled her when he came to her home to find her tear-stained face. He had sighed and rented her "Desert Hearts". He had watched it with her, and she'd found herself imagining herself and Kate in the roles. And she had been very glad for the happy ending.

Knowing that the media portrayals and real life were often worlds apart, she had tried to find small ways into what she was rapidly learning was called The Community. She'd found actors she had worked with who were either in, or supporting, GLAAD, and become aware of causes of equality. She'd gone to a Pride event or two.

Jeri had RSVP'd to a new year's eve party with several new acquaintances and asked Chris to join her. She knew that the day would come when she would "come out" and listened avidly, most thinking her probably little more than trendily curious, to the stories. But she was "taking notes" so that she would do it "right", though Right was certainly very specific to each case.

Talking with her brother, not coming out to him but determining his reaction to her new activities, she realized he would be fine with it, and without saying so, she suspected he was probably bisexual himself. And she knew her parents loved her.

Deep in thought, Jeri's stroll took her down Third Street, past specialty shop windows and up North La Cienega Blvd where there was a small theater called "Playwright Kitchen." She saw on the placard that Monday night reading featured Bob Picardo reading a monologue from a One Act play by Gregory Novotlov. While she'd never heard of Novotlov, she knew Bob, and thought to duck inside to see her former colleague read.

As she made her way inside, Jeri read through the small pamphlet she had been handed, discovering that the theater's entire purpose was to get unknown playwrights some publicity with readings.

She tucked her feet up as she sat down and absorbed the buzz of conversation around her as she watched them setting up. Though she was new to the place, she was allowed her personal space. She sensed that if she wanted to engage, it would be the informality she remembered from her college days. For now though, she listened.

There were three readings that night, Bob's being the last one. She began to feel the different energy mid-way through the second reading. It was familiar, yet she knew she was unused to it and so it felt strange. She wasn't quite "transported" back to being 20 again, but something shifted. Yes, she could understand why an actor would return to his or her roots in theater performance, rather than continue endlessly in television. The atmosphere was charged in a different way, almost living and breathing.

Watching Bob read she was reminded of his portrayal of the Doctor as a theatrical writer. He wore reading glasses and looked almost academic in a classic style sport coat, his diction full and his tone thoughtful. When he finished, he looked out at the audience and his gaze it seemed rested on her when he spoke. He smiled, but she realized when he spoke, he was speaking to the man seated beside her. "Greg, the monologue's great, but you know, I think you might find more energy interspersing it with Lilibet's."

Jeri turned her head to take in the curly brown haired man next to her. Greg Novotlov nodded to Bob and pulled out what was apparently his copy of the same script sketching notations on it. Seemingly oblivious to her presence, Jeri was able to witness Bob's expert guidance to the young writer. And he really enjoyed it. Jeri didn't consider herself to have Bob's experience, but she realized something else about the theater that happened on movie sets only sporadically, and on television sets only rarely. The writer/actor interaction. The sense of both creating something together.

She had been consulted about her character. However, the writer and director controlled development more than she did.

The nascent idea from Thanksgiving took on more form and she continued to absorb what she would need to participate here, or elsewhere, later. The reading broke up to clustered conversations around a table filled with snacks.

She picked up a cracker with cheese and poured herself a diet soda from a basket full of cans, continuing to listen to the conversation idly as Bob approached her.

"Jer?" He expansively smiled when she nodded, quickly clearing her mouth with a sip from her cup. "Haven't seen you since Vegas. How are you?" he asked.

She accepted a hug from him and hugged him back. "I'm doing all right."

"Your restaurant keeping you busy?"

"Definitely."

"You gonna get it open soon? Some friends and I have been dying to come by. We walk past there most nights."

"We've got a preview opening at the beginning of February, if nothing else goes wrong," Jeri replied. He winked. "Can I get a personal invitation?"

She laughed. "Sure. I'll get the information to you. You want me to send it through your agent?"

"Just stop by here next Wednesday. I'm doing a reading new year's day with Fred."

"You've really thrown yourself into this."

"You mean 'life after Voyager'? Yes. I've had bit roles, did a small arc on 'SG', then did a little indie that hasn't found a distributor yet." He paused and changed the subject. "What about you?"

"I keep getting shortlisted for mid-season replacements. I've done a couple pilots. Nothing's been picked up."

"You thinking about theater?"

She nodded. "This isn't really theater. More like dramatic reading."

"It's like auditioning every night."

"Seems to be more interplay. There was a lot of back and forth about the script you were reading."

"You mean Greg? He's a regular contributor. He's got ideas, came here from Bolstok, but with no sense of theater. We nicknamed him 'Tommy Tolstoy'. He's even tried a few readings himself. But he's happier writing."

"You enjoy the writing too. Anything you've penned and had done here?"

Bob shook his head. "My writing days began and ended on 'Voyager'."

"Reality not your shtick?"

He laughed. "I'm rather a morbid reality writer. And hell to live with when I do it according to my wife. But, I admit, my insight can serve here. Best of both worlds, I suppose. Life isn't much fun unless you're really happy doing it."

Jeri nodded taking the words another way, surprised to feel it sounded like 'advice'. "Well, I should be getting home."

"Take care. Enjoy," he said in farewell.

Wryly she thought of the exuberant Doctor coaching Seven and ducked her head as she left the small theater. Her car was back behind Ortolan and she made her way there with the aid of the streetlights, keeping to the lighted space and avoiding the shadows. It being nearly midnight, despite the reputation of the city, there were few people out in this district and she realized she probably should not have stepped out alone. Hurried steps clicked along the pavement behind her. She turned only to find Bob trotting up.

"You shouldn't walk out alone," he said.

Saying nothing since she had just been thinking the same thing, Jeri only replied, "Thanks. Guess my mind's on other things."

"You did sound like you're looking for some answers to some questions."

She bit off a wry chuckle. "Yeah, yep, that's me."

"Something wrong?"

"Not really, just trying to decide what it really is that I want."

Completely misinterpreting her, he encouraged, "Some role or another will come up."

"It's not..." They reached Ortolan and she stopped. "Thanks, Bob."

"Where's your car?"

"In back."

He nodded and she ended up following him as he led down the short alley. He waited until she entered the car and had turned on the lights and started the engine before she saw him walk away back down the alley to the street. She followed, turning right onto Third Street and driving out toward La Cienega and then left to head home.

She drove past home though and found herself following the signs out to a public access to the beach. Lights on the surf, in her locked car, she looked west as she let the radio music, something from Indigo Girls, fill her senses and she slept in the car.

At three a.m., a Los Angeles County Sheriff's deputy knocked on her window. Sheepishly she rolled it down, rubbing sleep from her eyes. He held out his hand. She passed over her license and registration.

Shining the flashlight in her eyes, he remarked, "You're sober, so what brings you out here?"

"Just thinking," she answered.

"Not a safe place to be thinking alone," he added. "You should go on home." He handed back her documents and stepped back from the car. Obediently she started the car, backed out and returned down the road to her home.

She sat out on the balcony still entranced by the Pacific surf she could see, and wrote a short note in a blank card she fished out of her collection. The cover was theater masks in the array of emotions. She concluded the note with only her initial "J", sealed the card inside the envelope and scripted Kate's name on the front.

If Kate recognized her hand then Jeri hoped she would receive something back. If someone else saw the note, she had been careful not to write anything more intimate than 'I hope you are well' amid the support for her theatrical efforts. She didn't want a postmark and instead decided to have her agent send the letter to Paramount. By that roundabout route it should wend its way to wherever Kate was performing at that moment.

Exhausted as her decision was made, come good or bad, Jeri finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Part 7**

"All right, that's a wrap," came into the silence following Kate's last words.

She pulled the studio set headphones, monstrously big things, off her head, smoothing down the hair that tried to get caught in between the padded earpieces and the wire framing. Despite her care, several strands wrapped around her fingers. They were no longer auburn, but she had foregone the coloring and returned it to varied shades of brown. Several of them she noted had gone translucent, another sign of her age. She sighed as much from the exhaustion of finishing 16 hours of audio redubbing as awareness of time's passage in her own life.

Especially since she remained unhappy. It had deepened in recent years, particularly in the last several months. She was seldom happy, deeply dissatisfied, melancholy about her work, though it at least filled her days. She strongly felt, without it, she would probably not get out of bed in the mornings.

There was a tap on the glass between her soundproof room and the audiotrack equipment room. Realizing she hadn't moved, and there was probably somewhere else everyone wanted to be except here, she at least focused long enough to lift a thumb in an "all's good" gesture and move herself from the chair toward the door leading from the room.

As she reached for the door's knob, Kate wondered at the time. Once she had begun her redubbing work for the Star Trek: Experience revamp, she had let her world shrink to the video screen, her face, and simply automatically revoiced all her words from the new tape they were planning to use.

If it were too late, she would have to head back to her hotel room alone. With trepidation she wondered if her dinner invitation had been revoked. Tiredly she pushed open the door, head down and stepped out.

"About damn time."

Kate looked up and almost cried. Bob Picardo stood not five feet away, walking toward her. His smile buoyed her until she could finally feel her own exhausted muscles respond and shape her face into a smile of her own.

She was immediately catapulted back to her last shooting day on "Voyager", when she stood up from the captain's chair, her last close up shot completed, the grips scurried behind her and started unbolting the chair from the middle of the set, and she looked to stage right and found Bob standing there as well, leaning against a bare set wall.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, surprising her with a full body hug. "Deja vu. It can't be all that bad," he added, pulling back as she ineffectually wiped at her cheeks. "You've survived another round as Janeway."

"Against the Borg no less," she remarked, half wry, half choked with lingering emotion.

"You always come out on top with them."

Kate sighed. "Not always."

Bob raised an eyebrow at her. "Damn, you are depressed."

Kate sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be. You're right. Another job done. Galaxy's safe again, thanks to Captain Janeway." She shook her head as if clearing cobwebs and forced herself to brighten visibly, even if she still felt sick inside. She couldn't burden her friend.

To further her image of complete recovery, she affected a hands on the hips "superheroine" pose. "Another victory for The Starfleet Way(TM)." Bob laughed.

"Are you still up for dinner?" he asked when they started walking toward a pair of doors marked with "Exit" signs.

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, it's only 8 pm. Fashionably late dinners are the norm at home."

"Is that where you're going? I couldn't impose. Please."

"Oh, no, Linda's outside with the Cav. We're going out."

As they stepped into the parking lot of Paramount Studios, Bob was still regaling Kate with the lunch antics she had missed by choosing to rework her dubbing while the others went to the commissary.

"You've almost never had to redo so much," he mused.

"I wasn't really ready to work on Janeway this time. She takes a bit of shrugging into."

"And Hepburn's not exactly an easy shrug off," he added. His voice held a lightly questioning tone.

Kate shrugged then ducked her gaze. "Maybe." She let him think that. She'd let them all think that. Fact was, half of Janeway's lines kept bringing Kate back around full circle to some other, older moment in the series itself, shaking her to the core each time.

She felt like she had been suspended for the last week in a sensory overload chamber, drifting between awareness of the present, living vividly in the past, and living in nightmares of a future, the crystal clarity of emotions making them all engrossing, even pummeling, in their immediacy.

**# # #**

Bob's wife Linda drove while Bob continued to bring Kate up to date on happenings in Los Angeles since they had last seen one another, briefly, at the Star Trek Vegas convention the previous year.

"Everybody circles 'home' eventually," he chuckled when Kate pointed out that he had seemed to catch up with everyone. "And I keep involved in the arts around here."

"You've been doing very well. Guest spots, even recurring characters."

"I've been doing theater as well. Keeps the joints from rusting," he laughed at his own approbation.

_Or wasting away_ , she added silently. "It does," she added aloud.

"I even ran into ..." he trailed off.

"Hmm? Who?" Kate frowned as he shrugged, clearly his tongue having tripped ahead of his brain when he decided it was either something she wouldn't want to hear, or wouldn't be interested in hearing. "Which is it?" she asked. "Something I don't want to hear, or something you think I wouldn't be interested in hearing?"

He looked at her in surprise. "You've... Well, it was someone else from 'Voyager'. I... figured we were all talked out about them."

"Obviously not." She ticked through the list of names he had already regaled her with stories. There were only two omissions that she immediately realized. "Was it Garrett or... Jeri?"

_Ah._ His reaction told her the latter before he spoke a word.

"It's all right. So you've run into her. Around here?" Kate's attention was perking up. She tried to tamp it down and sound nonchalant.

She was not entirely certain she succeeded when Bob answered her with, "She still lives in L.A. of course. It was... the theater talk that reminded me. She showed up at The Kitchen a little while back. Even came back for a second reading I was doing."

"Is she... busy?"

"Here and there. Seemed a little at sea last we talked. Might have to do with Ortolan though."

_At sea? Was Jeri feeling as adrift as Kate was? Was she lost often in thinking of her?_ Questions hammered at her. She fought them to silence to ask, "Ortolan?" She remembered reading about it, but the reference was not fresh in her exhausted mind.

"It's a restaurant she's opening next month."

_A restaurant_. "What sort of food?"

"French she tells me. Her boyfriend is the chef, some fellow named..." Bob searched his memory. "Chris...Cristo... No. Christophe."

Kate's heart had expanded with the French mention. She had always adored French cooking, learned a few dishes, and had talked about it on the set from time to time. Had Jeri been listening, or was it another one of the things they had in common but had never shared?

"So... next month?"

"Yes. We're actually dining in that district. I'll show it to you if you want. I've gotten quite familiar with the area. The Kitchen... formally The Playwright's Kitchen, is there, and Linda and I find ourselves dining at many of the establishments."

"I am... curious," she allowed cautiously.

"I promise you won't find her there, not at this hour."

Kate's heart tripped a little but she was careful to shrug as if it mattered not at all to her.

**# # #**

Kate glimpsed the exterior of Ortolan as she and the Picardos stopped under an awning in front of an Italian place that had starlight service. At this hour there were a few open tables. When Bob gave his name, they were seated right away. Frequent diner, hmm? Kate thought.

He grinned, taking his wife on his left arm and offering Kate his right. Starting with a skip like the Scarecrow in Wizard of Oz, he guided them through the dining room to the back patio area where the waiter seated them and presented menus.

The restaurant's position kept the cool breeze mostly at bay. And the lighting was surprisingly muted, providing a view of the canopy of stars. It was quite relaxing. The wine helped unknot many more of Kate's tensions.

Coupled with her physical exhaustion from such a long day, she was now drifting as she nibbled her panforte dessert. The sweet smells of the fruit and nut recipe were magnified. She inhaled and turned to Linda, "So, has he been home any more at all since Voyager ended?"

Linda shook her head. "No, but I didn't expect it."

"Good for you." Kate nodded. She blinked and lowered her voice as she thought she heard her own voice ring in her ears. "It's in the blood y'know. Actors gotta act."

Linda glanced at Bob then back at Kate. "Tough call for some I guess."

"Yep. Love always is."

"Kate?"

Bob's voice made Kate turn her head, dizzying herself for a second. She closed her eyes and then more gingerly opened them. "Yes?"

"I think maybe we should go. Don't you have a plane flight tomorrow?"

Kate nodded. She remained silent. Linda reached for her purse. Bob started to stand to put on his coat. Then Kate shook her head. "Not going."

Bob asked mildly, "Hmm?"

"Changed my mind. I'm staying right here. Where I am happy."

**# # #**

Bob and Linda escorted Kate up to her hotel room. It had taken them nearly twenty minutes just to get her into the Cavalier, where she promptly had leaned back, looked over across the street, at what they weren't certain, and muttered, "This makes me happy."

Thank God the car was a convertible. Kate's voice was somnolent, and only a little off key, but for all that, it was rather disconcerting to have her singing the lyrics to _"On the Street Where You Live"_ from "My Fair Lady."

"Kate," Linda prompted as they stood in front of Room 318.

"Hmm. Oh, yes. Sorry, just thinking."

"Are you thinking of taking up a role in 'My Fair Lady'?" Linda asked. Following _"On The Street Where You Live"_ Kate had launched into _"Wouldn't It Be Loverly."_

"Who'd you think they'd get to play Eliza?"

Linda and Bob were stymied. "What part do you want?"

"Higgins was a windbag, but he got the girl in the end, didn't he?" Kate turned to Bob. "Would you do Pickering?"

"Um hmm." Bob's brow was a permanent frown as he and Linda watched Kate let herself into her room. They were exchanging looks, trying to decide what if anything further they could do. They'd gotten her "home" safe.

"Well, good night."

"Are you going to have a night cap?" Bob asked, thinking quickly.

"I really shouldn't. I'm drunk already," replied Kate surprisingly sounding abruptly sobered, "and I have to make a very important call."

"Oh." Bob backed out of the doorway.

"Good night."

Kate closed the door. Pensively exchanging looks, Bob and Linda silently resolved to call from home in the morning to check on her.

**# # #**

Kate actually made two phone calls. Figures swimming from her address book, she dialed her agent's local number, leaving a message to have someone call her back in the morning. She intended to be in town a while and wanted to line up some appointments. Then she dialed Cleveland.

There was a blurred voice at the other end and she suddenly realized it was one in the morning. She had called before dawn in Cleveland.

"Hello?" Tim's voice was male, gruff, with an edge of alarm.

"I'm not coming home," Kate said succinctly, and hung up the phone.

She would have to explain herself to him eventually. She settled back on the bed and kicked off her shoes before crawling under the covers.

Her children were grown, gone from home. Her marriage was a sham, her life past mid-life one charade after another. It wasn't very complicated to explain. She was simply happier here in Los Angeles, even alone.

_Because it was the city where she lived._

**Part 8**

The click of her own heels on the pavement accompanied Jeri in the dawn quiet of Third Street as she parked, as was her habit, away from the restaurant but out on the street. Since Bob had walked her back from The Kitchen she had been chastened about parking out of obvious sight.

Her caution could not dampen the invigoration and accomplishment she felt coming up the street, no matter what time of day. She liked most though mingling with those on the sidewalk, walking up to the front of her restaurant.

Hers.

Her name wasn't on it. But it had her "stamp" all over it, from the look as you walked up -- she had worked with the architect's "face" man for weeks to get just the right balance between French classic and French modern mixed with L.A.'s unique ambiance. The entry seemed to embrace her as she stepped up to the front door's lock to place her key in the tumbler.

Light steps passing behind her quickly. She turned to see the back of a small woman, large white hat, bags and packages filling her arms. She went to a car parked at the curb. As Jeri stepped across the threshold, the trunk of the BMW coupe sprang up, obviously remotely keyed.

The woman hesitated as she turned, then stepped quickly off the curb disappearing behind the raised trunk lid. In the quick glimpse, Jeri recalled the flashes of springtime white, a blue ribbon laced through the wide-brimmed hat.

It was early for the stores in the district to be open. Obviously the woman had been shopping for hours. The lack of retinue accompanying an obviously special personality surprised Jeri.

Only briefly though did she consider it. A woman on her own. Jeri was beginning to appreciate the sense of self-worth that came with that state herself.

With a smile lingering on her lips, she turned the key in the tumbler and entered the restaurant. She inhaled deeply, aware that the still, expectant atmosphere would soon change. Tonight her restaurant would burst forth with life, new life. She hoped desperately it would infuse her with the same.

**# # #**

With its communal French castle style long dining benches, the larger, secondary hall space had been her idea. The dining was grander here, making diners imagine dining at a high lord's castle, but more casual as well, encouraging large groups and more lively conversation.

Around eight-thirty, she emerged after meeting with a party of thirteen, a hostess's entire immediate and boisterous family of five brothers and sisters, their spouses, the parents, and a grandparent. The large group was a test of her wait-staff's skills and she was pleased to hear that they were "doing wonderfully. We've never had such attentive service."

Passing near the entrance, Jeri smiled as another set of departing guests praised the food and ambiance. Lunch had gone off with only a few glitches, most of which she already had ironed out, mostly about the flow of food to and from tables. She and Armand had moved four tables basically seventeen inches each, to widen the aisle from the kitchen.

Jeri entered the kitchen and found Chris working at several tasks, chopping vegetables on one counter, and beside it, stirring a pot containing fruits he was cooking down.

He spared her a warm smile as she seamlessly stepped in at the cutting board to finish the vegetables. On the other side of him, she could see the skillet of melting butter waiting for them.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"Smoothly," he said.

"Out front too," she added.

"Still looking forward to doing this every night?" he asked.

She nodded, diligently chopping as she did so.

"Going to be quite a change from your usual."

"My usual?"

"Social parties, dancing, making industry connections."

She shook her head. "I like being here."

"Do you think so?"

"It's on my terms. I take what I want. Even Melinda says my stock's gone up. I'm in no one's shadow."

"So... no slowing down?" He clucked his tongue. "I thought I taught you better than that. If you don't stop to smell the Chablis, you'll never be sure you're properly tasting it."

"I'm not used to slowing down. I like to keep busy."

"You'd rather not stop to think, you mean. You still haven't decided what to do about your... offer, have you?"

"I sent a note. Two months ago. Nothing came back," she retorted, surprised to hear how stung her own voice sounded. Immediately she looked away from him, back to her chopping.

"What if she walked in that door tomorrow night?"

Eyes darting up to his, Jeri knew she didn't hide her alarm, and in the next minute she yelped as the knife in her right hand slid across her left thumb.

Chris said nothing, only pulled her away from the counter to a sink, held her hand under cool water, and checked it for seriousness. He fetched the first aid kit and covered the nick with a one-inch adhesive bandage. Softening the stern look in his eyes, he kissed her cheek. "Jeri," he said, blurring the sounds almost to 'cherie', "You must not let the fear rule."

Chastened, and cupping her thumb, Jeri retreated from the kitchen back into the restaurant's dining areas.

"Excuse me," a high voice said.

Jeri looked up to see a young brunette named Elizabeth from her wait-staff, leading a couple to a table. She had nearly walked into them. "Excuse me." She stepped aside. "Good evening," she offered the couple, who appeared to be in their mid-50s. He was surprisingly slim for an older man, and his wife, on the heavyset side, held a Gucci bag like a prized hog. The tableau made Jeri smile.

"Good evening," the gentleman replied. "I like what I've seen so far."

His gaze had swept her as he spoke. She politely nodded, but decided to leave them. "Enjoy your meal."

She turned away from watching Elizabeth pulling out a chair for the lady, and saw across the room to another table where another pair of diners were just settling into their seats. She started toward the area, taking in the comportment and appearance of her guests gradually. Two women, she realized. _Friends?_

She had to shake her head when one leaned over, pulling the chair out for the other, despite Ortolan's hostess reaching to do the same. The woman was blonde, lean and tall, her movements bespeaking a deep, peace. Her partner was dark, sitting somewhat in the shadow below a wall sconce, and yet, as plainly as if sunshine lit her face, Jeri could see the loving expression she bestowed on her taller companion. Their hands linked easily on the tablecloth as they both looked up to hear the hostess reciting the wine selections.

"Ms. Ryan?"

Jeri's attention was drawn from the table to Kevin, one of the assistant chefs from the kitchen. "Yes?"

"Chris wanted to know where you went."

"Does he need something?"

"He did say something about the flan."

Jeri nodded and followed Kevin back to the kitchen.

It wasn't flan, or at least nothing was wrong with the flan, Jeri found. Chris wanted to apologize and he had a slice of cheesecake, cherry as a bonus, to share with her as they stepped out of the restaurant moving to the bench out at the bus stop.

She stared at the cheesecake's golden surface and the candy-red of the cherries in their sauce over the top.

"I only want your happiness," he said gingerly into the silence she let reign. "You mean a great deal to me, _Cherie_. A cherished friend. You have given me my dream in this restaurant. I only wish to see yours fulfilled."

"Clearly she's moved on. I haven't seen her. She was here in L.A. just last month," Jeri said. Chris started in surprise. "Bob told me last week when we were catching up over a new script at The Kitchen."

The script she was practicing with Bob and a small ensemble of women, for a single night reading on the 22nd, her birthday, had grabbed her immediately with its period feel and yet its universality. She was playing the central figure described only as a young woman swept off her feet by a man, pregnant and wrestling with what to do when he leaves her. Each of the other woman portrayed a voice of choice. Jeri had never had to choose about having Alex or not; inhabiting the "skin" of such a young woman taught her more about courage than she thought she'd ever have learned just reading a tract.

"What was she doing here?"

"Hmm?" Jeri drew herself back to Chris. "Oh. Business for Paramount. Voyager stuff."

"You weren't also called?"

Jeri forced herself to shrug. "It didn't involve Seven."

"Really?"

"I didn't want to be in it. I've left that behind now." She gestured at the restaurant.

"Ah, so.. you continue running away."

Jeri straightened. "I haven't run anywhere. I'm still here. I have friends, I'm busy. I'm branching out."

"So, do you know what day she left L.A.?"

"Bob says he called her hotel the day after they finished and she was gone." She frowned, recalling Bob's muse, almost too low for her to hear, "I had thought she was going to stay for a while."

"If you're interested in meeting someone still..."

She shook her head, leaned over and kissed his cheek. He stood first, grasped her hand and walked her back inside.

**# # #**

Automatically, Jeri's gaze surveyed the dining room, and she was surprised to realize that the partners she had seen sitting over at table 32 were already gone.

"Did they not like something?" she asked. How long had she been outside with Chris?

Clearing a nearby table, Elizabeth questioned, "Ma'am?"

"The couple that was here," she said. "They were just sitting before I went outside with Chris."

"There hasn't been anyone at that table all night," Elizabeth answered.

Jeri looked down at the table setting and indeed, there was not a single item out of place. The table had not been reset after guests. It had indeed, never been occupied.

She looked around at other nearby tables for a long moment. Had she misremembered? Stepping back, she took in the whole scene again. No, this was their table. The wall sconce which had shadowed the one was in exactly the same position over the chair. Moving the vantage slightly to the right, or to the left to accommodate one of the other tables and the sconce lined up incorrectly with the seating.

_Tall and blonde, short and darker... a same-sex couple in love..._

_Was she going insane?_

Jeri took herself outside to the street in front of the restaurant again and drank in the night life on the streets. Everywhere there were couples, walking together, talking together, coming to, or leaving the restaurant. Life was bustling right past her.

In the middle of it all, she stood utterly alone.

**Part 9**

Kate inhaled as she saw Jeri emerge from the restaurant. Since staying in town two weeks ago, she had found a dozen reasons to linger on Third Street. She had come to know the other woman's patterns as she completed the preparations for opening Ortolan as she sat at the al fresco dining tables of the small cafes up and down the street.

The whole of it revitalized her. Every glimpse of Jeri as she strolled from car to restaurant and back again made Kate's heart beat in her chest like she had never been alive before.

She had traced every expression on the strikingly featured face, relearning anticipation, eagerness, and the fretful drawn brow of concentration. Kate had once known these expressions and spent many nights after Jeri had gone home castigating herself again for her ignorance and callousness all those years ago.

Wasted years.

She had observed Jeri's favorite things these last weeks, aware as no one else of the independence with which Jeri conducted her life. She admired it, appreciated it, and wanted to support it, support her.

In the shadowed area behind a street lamp, she watched Jeri step away from the flow of patrons entering her restaurant. She saw the incandescent glow of pride as she held the door fade when Jeri stepped away into the central traffic area of the sidewalk, looking up and down the street, jawline flexing as she considered something. Something serious and saddening Kate realized as she noted the way Jeri's eyes shimmered with moisture and her full lips trembled. When Jeri's teeth appeared and caught her trembling lower lip to still it, Kate worried at her own lips, heart in her throat.

She started forward out of the shadows, driven by seeing the object of her love in pain.

However, even as she stepped into the street lamp's light, Jeri turned away, walking slowly back inside the restaurant.

Kate decided she could not lose her chance. Scarf as always hiding her hair, polarized glasses hiding her face, she entered the flow of patrons around the doorway, slipping through. Pulling off her glasses, her gaze darted around the interior of Ortolan.

Her stomach rumbled in response to the sumptuous smells, reminding her she hadn't eaten yet that evening. Silencing her needs, she leaned against a wall, watching around its edge as Jeri walked slowly through the dining room, head down. Several patrons drew her attention; she attended them, but then moved away.

Kate recognized Bob Picardo sitting at a back table with his wife Linda and halted in concern. She wasn't sure she wanted to be found here by the man whom she had told she had left town two weeks ago.

A young woman approached her. "Are you dining this evening?" she asked. Kate noted how young she was, the inky waves of hair framing a broadly boned face offering a curious smile.

"No. Thank you." Without further explanation, Kate returned to the street.

After glancing up and down to see she was unobserved, she rounded the side of the building and disappeared into the alley behind.

**# # #**

Jeri found Chris in the kitchen. He immediately noted her glossy eyes and waved her over to where he was taking a break. The younger chefs continued their food preparation unabated as Jeri passed them to meet Chris by another counter in the back.

"Did something happen?" he asked quietly as he pretended to be investigating the spice supplies.

Jeri shook her head. "I have to go after her," she said.

"Do you know where she is?" he asked reasonably.

"She's not supposed to be in Seattle for two more months. But I..."

"But you can't wait anymore."

Jeri looked outward from where she had huddled with Chris toward the back door. The familiarity of the voice both raising anxiety and hope. Chris continued to hold her shoulders as she turned.

"Kate?" She pursed her lips, sealing back all the shakiness she had heard in that one syllable.

The vision before her was an angel dressed in a white pantsuit, crisp blue lined blouse and a diaphanous scarf covering her hair. The color had been returned to its heyday red-brown. There were streaks of blonde or perhaps gray, Jeri thought, aware of the natural gradients she so loved.

"I couldn't wait any longer either," Kate whispered in the silence; the huskiness sent shivers down Jeri's spine as the other woman never broke her gaze.

"I think you should go out back," Chris whispered in Jeri's ear. "I've got things here."

Jeri's head swam as she swiveled to take in Chris's face as she absorbed his words and tried to register why he was pushing against her right shoulder.

Chris looked from Jeri to Kate, Jeri following the line of sight and continuing to drink in the vision, from the bow-like lips to the softness of the jaw, and the way it quivered as Kate met Chris's assessing look.

"Just... five minutes?" Kate's voice held a request for permission. Clearly she recognized Chris's self-appointed role as Jeri's guardian.

Jeri touched Chris's hand, removing it from her right shoulder. "I'll be out back," she told him.

He looked to her, back to Kate, then returned his gaze to Jeri's with a nod. "I'll be right here."

"I know." Jeri felt the desire to kiss his cheek but shook it away, turning instead to Kate. Without a word, she gestured to the back door, the way the woman had obviously come in.

Kate didn't move immediately. Jeri stopped as she came up to her. They stood inches apart, gazes locked. Jeri could read a wealth of emotion in Kate's eyes. There was a smile, happiness, tempered by a self-deprecating quirk in the right corner of her lips. Jeri felt her own heartbeat quicken as she recalled the satin feel and faint taste of plum brandy she had experienced on those same lips back in Vegas, and accepted that she wanted to experience it all again. Her own lips curved upward as she smiled.

Kate's breath caught, the gasp registering in the silence. Oh boy, they both had it bad, Jeri thought. She lifted her hand to gesture again to the back door and watched Kate's pupils dilate as she followed the hand, turned and pushed on the door frame.

Jeri smiled at Kate's back and followed. Their hands met briefly against the door as they transferred the weight of holding it open from one to the other.

The door closed, leaving them standing alone in the dimly lit alley. Jeri turned to watch Kate walk a few steps away, then look up, and move a few steps back.

"So... how are you?" Kate asked finally, ending the silence.

Jeri nodded. "I'm...." She meant to say she was fine, but she wasn't, and damned if she wasn't tired of it. "I sent you a note." Kate's nod was slow, surprising Jeri. "So you got it?"

Kate opened the left side of her jacket. Jeri watched her fingers disappear, inhaling as she saw the corner of something. "I keep it close to my heart."

"I thought..."

"I didn't want to rush at you again," Kate acknowledged. "I... didn't want to scare you." She lifted out the note card, fingers tracing over the mask images.

"What... what brought you to L.A.?"

"I've been here for a month."

Jeri startled. "I know you came a few weeks ago for the voiceover work. You stayed?"

"I couldn't leave. Not until I had talked to you."

"It's been weeks. Where have you been staying?"

"Here," Kate admitted, gesturing in the overall area. "I... I've been watching you."

Jeri didn't feel upset by that, but instead she was warmed. "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

Kate smiled then looked chastened. "Can... Will you give me a chance to prove you can believe in this? In us?"

Jeri took a step forward which brought their bodies together. Kate's eyes, filled with anxiety and worry, met hers. The taut line of tendons formed by her lifted chin drew Jeri's fingertips. The contact was hesitant and Kate's eyes filled with tears.

As Jeri changed to cupping the trembling chin, a tear slipped from the corner of Kate's left eye. Jeri brought her lips to the gentle creases, tasting the salts.

In an instant she felt Kate crumble completely. Wrapping her in her arms, Jeri held her tightly, lips removing the salty tears, trailing kisses down satin cheeks and finally, she claimed Kate's mouth, parting her own lips to catch Kate's gasping cries, teeth lightly brushing Kate's upper lip, tongue searching for the hauntingly remembered tastes, nostrils flaring, filled with the woman's unforgettable scent.

**# # #**

Kate's tears released her shame at her previous behavior. Mouth open, she tasted Jeri's forgiveness, soothed by her love, their love accepted by them both at long last.

As she drew breath, hiccuping, Jeri's lips remained on her face, light kisses moving up her cheek to her temple, and finally fingers lacing through her hairline, lips pressing to her forehead.

Her chest pressed into Jeri's, her back enfolded by Jeri's right arm and her left hand cupped Kate's cheek, Kate lifted her gaze. She consciously tamped down on the arousal the contact had caused. _I won't scare her away again_ , she vowed. _She's in control_. The concept both frightened and freed her in a way she had never felt before.

Jeri's own face had begun to shimmer with tear stains. Concerned, Kate lifted her right hand, cupped Jeri's chin and whispered, "I love you. I want to be here near you, with you, but... if you want me to leave... I only want your happiness. Just tell me how to do that."

Kate bit her lip as Jeri's gaze shifted between her own and the restaurant.

"Have dinner with me?"

Kate knew she had to double-check. "Are you sure?"

"We... have a lot to talk about, don't you agree?"

Hesitantly, Kate nodded. "Anything you want."

Jeri disengaged her hold and started to turn toward the restaurant. Kate started to follow. "No," Jeri turned back. "Not here. Too public. I want you... alone."

Kate could not mistake the sensual purr in Jeri's voice. She grasped her hands together to still their trembling as Jeri disappeared inside the restaurant. She continued to tremble nervously as she waited for her to reappear.

The shadow and light around her shifted, drawing Kate's attention from the closed restaurant door. Gauzy moonlight spilled through the alley, transforming the dark place into a fairytale heaven, reflecting the glow from her heart.

**Part 10**

_"You were about to go to her. Consider that she came to you, and know what that means for her."_

Thinking about Chris's last words of advice, Jeri watched Kate's face as the dashboard lights, passing cars and streetlights played across her face. The woman sat quietly in the passenger seat of Jeri's car. She had acquiesced when Jeri returned from the Ortolan kitchen and suggested that they go somewhere.

She felt Kate's gaze from the passenger seat as a tangible caress. The silence was surprisingly peaceful. Jeri reached out her right hand to the central console where Kate's hand rested, clearly still a little anxious about coming the rest of the way to rest on Jeri's knee.

So she put their joined hands on her own thigh. Kate looked up from their hands and her glossy eyes crinkled in a smile.

Resolved from the trust in that look, Jeri made a turn, taking a surface that was more path than road, parking finally underneath a bluff. The Pacific Ocean lay out before them. She put the car in park and leaned back looking over to watch Kate's reaction.

"Where?" Kate's gaze flicked curiously over the scene then back to Jeri. "I've been here," she said wonderingly. "I... I had a dream."

Jeri looked out at the same scene and smiled. It was the same aspect of beach in her dream as well.

_Well, that settles that_ , she thought with a quirk of amusement on her lips, sure now that Fate had played her hand for them both. She put her right hand over Kate's again in the other woman's lap. "Yes, I know."

The cryptic remark got her a querulous look that was adorable on Kate's features. Jeri felt her quirked smile broaden. She reached for her door handle.

Kate started in surprise. Jeri nodded up toward the top of the bluff. "I live up there. Come on."

It was chilly as they both stepped from the car. Uncertain of their destination and true to her stated goal of not pushing, Kate stood quietly until Jeri waved her forward in front of the hood.

The ocean breeze pulled at Jeri's hair as she turned into it. It was February after all and the chill wasn't entirely pleasant. When Kate shivered, Jeri reached out. "Kate," she invited.

Gently the softest hand Jeri could ever remember holding slid into hers, their palms meeting, fingers entwining. "Are we walking up?"

"Not yet." Lifting their joined hands and her arm, so that she could tuck Kate into her shoulder, feeling Kate's own arm slide against her hips, Jeri led the way to the beach. Their ears were filled with the crash of the surf and the calls of seagulls. The moon overhead, only a faint touch while in the heart of the city, now gave full faerie effect, sparkling on the sands, rocks, their skin and hair.

_This is heaven_ , Jeri thought. The muscles of the small, soft body against hers moved with her own over the mix of rocks and dunes. Occasionally Kate would stumble, or fumble for balance, and Jeri would catch her more securely. Kate's hair brushed Jeri's throat, causing the skin to prickle in expectation and her groin to pulse with slow-building arousal.

She had been on an ephemeral plane since seeing Kate; a little stunned, a lot pleased. Adrenaline had flowed through her body, gradually giving her a light feeling from the building warmth, like a hot air balloon slowly being filled.

Now the feelings were tempering, calming, no less arousing, but grounded, proving to her that it was all real. She turned her head to find Kate's blue eyes, translucent in the moonlight, lifting to meet hers.

She watched Kate's throat as she swallowed. Without a word, Jeri gave in to the urge to caress the jawline and tendons with her fingertips.

With her voice clearly caught in a rising spiral of arousal, Kate asked, "Is... is this all right?"

Lips curving slow and sure, Jeri answered, "Better than that."

"It's... You're not...Talking."

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's right. Really." Jeri shook her head. "I guess I owe you some explanation," she offered finally. She glanced around where they stood and spotted a place to sit. "Let's sit over here."

**# # #**

Kate followed Jeri to an eroded rock, its worn surface slightly bowled. A natural chair. Jeri sat down and slid back, lifting her left leg, and folding it, knee up, pushing backward until she sat back as far as possible. She made a space in front of her between her legs where Kate could fit and patted the cool stone.

Looking from the space to Jeri, Kate eased onto the surface, she leaned her shoulder against Jeri's knee as she faced her.

She could feel her body heat leeching into the stone. It was hard to concentrate until she looked up into Jeri's eyes, and then all negative thoughts were lost. She was lost. Their faces were inches apart. Kate licked her wind-chapped lips.

Jeri leaned closer still and her palm cradled the back of Kate's head, fingers threading through her hair, massaging her nape tenderly. Pressing lightly, Jeri brought her full lips to Kate's, gently at first exploring the sensations of contact again, then more firmly.

Kate heard her own moan as it drowned out the seagulls. She closed her eyes and savored the taste, and the sensations of completion that washed over her, tingling along her skin, lodging with thick, warm satisfaction in her stomach. Slowly she opened her eyes.

Jeri smiled. "The simplest explanation is that I've had time to think since Vegas too."

Kate bit her lip, anxious as she waited for the full flow of information to start. The long fingers of Jeri's left hand traced Kate's lips one at a time, starting with her thumb, while she continued to hold Kate's left hand in her lap with her right.

"You were right that I had been attracted to you while we were filming. You were also right in your accusation that it never went away."

"So why did we have to wait six months?" Kate asked.

"If we had started an affair six months ago, we both would have walked into something we knew nothing about. Except in dreams." Jeri gave a self-deprecating chuckle as she finished.

Kate felt her stomach react with a warm curling sensation at the sound of that chuckle. "Is something different now?"

"It is very important to me to go into this on my own, knowing what we both want."

Jeri's response was clearly a starting point, on its way to an answer. Kate found herself aware of this distinctly for the first time, really listening.

Jeri continued, "I had to learn enough to be on equal footing before I could approach you, as you had approached me."

Kate bit her lip. She thought with a bit of a sinking in her heart, I'm not Jeri's first. She exhaled. "I see."

Jeri lifted her chin. Kate hadn't even realized she had dropped her gaze. "There has been no one else." She shook her head. "Unless you count Chris, a bisexual man who explained that what I was afraid of wasn't an insurmountable obstacle."

"Chris? Was he the man from the restaurant?"

Jeri nodded. "Without him I wouldn't have had any clue what I wanted to do with you." She added, "He showed me my first proper lesbian movie."

"Oh?"

Jeri nodded. "The mainstreamed stuff is depressing."

Kate shook her head. "I've not seen one yet."

"It seemed somehow fitting. I was always dreaming about you." Jeri admitted her final secret here. "Even back when you and I were yelling at each other. I kept imagining one heated exchange or another would lead to us falling into one another's arms."

"No more arguments from me. I was stupid. I was afraid. I want to be supportive. I... I was following your pilot projects this fall."

"Thanks, and trust me, I do know that means you want to make up for the past." She nodded. "I do too."

"Can we?"

"We've taken the first step here," Jeri said, "Are you sure this is what you want? I don't want you, in a month, a year, fifty years, to regret anything."

"There's no going back for me." Kate sighed. "I burned my bridges." She shook her head. "The life I want is here, with you. You're in all my dreams."

Jeri chuckled then as her forehead dropped lightly against Kate's, she added softly, "And mine."

Kate lifted her gaze back to Jeri's. The passion she found mirrored the expressions from her dreams. Particularly when they had made love on a beach. She looked around in sudden thought. She recognized rocky outcroppings, curvaceous dunes, even the smell and sound of the surf matched her memory. Her dream... She remembered her first reaction to seeing the place when Jeri had parked.

"My dream. This beach?" she murmured in amazement. "But... how?"

Obviously unsurprised by the path of Kate's thoughts, Jeri answered without pause, but also with no small amount of awe herself. "I don't know. I've lived up on that bluff for the last seven years. You've never come out to any party I gave at my home... but somehow, I think we both had the same dream."

"It was morning, early," Kate started. "The mists from the sea front were thick like a curtain. The breeze swirled them apart." She looked around and thought she recognized an outcropping. "I... came through there, walked down to the water line."

"I saw you coming toward me," Jeri picked up the thread. "I had come down to the beach to think." She picked up Kate's hand and nudged her until they were both standing. "You had flowers."

"A peace offering," Kate said. Somewhat shamefully she added, "I don't have anything now."

"I didn't need them in the dream, Kate," Jeri pointed out. "You gave up everything to come to me. That was... that is... More than enough."

Jeri pulled Kate to her, as she had in the dream they shared while miles apart. The press of their muscled bodies radiated sensuous heat through them both, blocking the ocean breeze from their senses.

Kate's gasp was sucked in by Jeri's mouth. Her tongue was coaxed forward then sucked on as well, until Kate's knees buckled.

"I want you, Kate. I never stopped wanting you. Now that I know you understand what I need, I'll give you everything you could want in a relationship in return. The relationship promised in our dreams. Then," she emphasized, "And now."

Kate's only answer was tear-filled eyes. Jeri lowered her to the smooth rock surface where they had been sitting, parting buttons as she guided Kate onto her back, kissing flesh before it could cool in the breeze.

Looking up at Jeri poised above her, Kate felt her soul open to the searching, soothing touch of Jeri's eyes. Her lover, at long last.

Prefacing her words with a thoroughly deep tongue kiss, Jeri chuckled into Kate's ear, "You are the finest birthday present I ever received."

Kate however was not going to remember the date immediately, as Jeri set about making her forget there was even an earthly plane for their mutual existence.

Every touch on her skin, a stroke of fingertip here, a nip from teeth there, was soul-deep, as though Jeri were reaching inside her chest with every motion, caressing the very essence of her life.

Tears poured emotionally down her cheeks, kissed away by full lips. When the explosive touches came deep within, Kate felt their bodies' pressing together, the soft silk of Jeri's blouse parting under her fingers, breasts pillowing together, skin aflame, then as though gone, their bared souls melded together into one.

**# # #**

Resting against Kate's chest as she crouched over her, Jeri exhaled and inhaled steadily, regaining her equilibrium. She reveled in the heart beating wildly under her ear, slowly gradually in time with her own. She felt satiated, serene, all was right within herself. Her blouse over her back billowed in the breeze. Now that she was still, the chilled air made itself known.

Kate's fingers tangled in her hair as Jeri lifted her head, seared instantly by Kate's eyes. She was unsure what tomorrow would bring; how they would keep this from the paparazzi who thrived on this sort of news. But she knew as she spoke, it was the right thing to do. "Would you come home with me?"

_For all time_ , her mind whispered. The thought remained unspoken and was carried away with the ocean breeze, to come back, perhaps, another day. Kate's tears were brushed away by her own gentle hands. "I will," she said.

_For now_ , she added silently as she helped Kate sit up, smoothed her hands over skin as she indulged even while recovering her lover's skin, Jeri thought, it was enough.

The two women walked up the path, hand in hand, keeping to the shadows from the bluff. Jeri found the cleft, which became a stepped walk, leading Kate up to the top, to her neighborhood where the house lights were all dark. Street lights began to flicker off as dawn turned the eastern sky pink.

**# # #**

**Author's Note:**

> There's another installment to this saga. If you're still interested. It's called **Whisper Their Love**.
> 
> Oh, and let me say this about Margaret O'Halloran, who met Kate in Boston instead of Ronnie: She's an original character I added to Boston Public. And yes, she looks a lot like KM. Her story intersects with Ronnie's in the branch of stories that followed Ronnie away from Tea at Five Twisted, starting with **Identity Crisis**. So look those up if you want to read another slow-build F/F romance featuring other AU versions of KM and JR.


End file.
